Don't Drink The Milk
by Arderyd
Summary: This is more of my imagined life of mortal Jozsef Konstantin, a flash of which first appeared in "What's In A Name".


**Title:** Don't Drink The Milk  
**Author:** Arderyd  
**Rating:** G (nothing, just a conversation between siblings)  
**Fandom/Pairing:** Moonlight / Josef Konstantin  
**Disclaimer:** The following productions & characters are not associated with me: CBS, Moonlight: the series & its creators... and Jason Dohring doesn't belong to me. _Damn_. Do not archive or repost without contacting me. Story © 2008 D. M. Cotto.  
**Spoilers:** None that I know of.  
**Summary:** This ficlet is a part of the same universe as in 'What's In A Name'.  
**Feedback/Flames:** Yes please. / Keep them to yourself.  
**Beta/Editor:** Ariadne Elise-- you rock!  
**A/N:** This is more of my imagined life of mortal Jozsef Konstantin, a flash of which first appeared in "What's In A Name".

_**Don't Drink the Milk  
**_By: Arderyd

It was the promise of tomorrow that kept him from losing his mind. The promise that tomorrow could and would bring him the chance to avenge his sister.

Jozsef Konstantin, Báró Zéptves, put down his pen and leaned away from the house books. He closed his eyes.

"You should get some sleep Jozsef," Irmé's soft voice said to him as she walked into his study. She held a mug of hot milk in her hands and put it in front of him.

Jozsef smiled, "hot milk?" He glanced up at her. "I'm not 12 years old anymore."

She smiled back, "I can't help it." She shrugged her shoulders, "It comes with the territory of being the elder sister. Besides it is better for you than the vodka you insist on drowning yourself in."

Jozsef scowled. "You do not have to worry about me, dear sister. Don't you have your own child to nag at? I seem to remember a small person that insists on calling me 'Uncle'."

Irmé smiled. "Kolos loves it here. Thank you for allowing us to stay."

Jozsef waved his sister's gratitude aside. "Where else would I have you go?"

"I and your nephew are penniless. His birthright and fortune lost to the Turks. I know your wife is not pleased to have us here."

Jozsef shook his head. "She has no say," he said forcefully. "This is your home. Not hers."

Irmé smiled at her brother sadly. "She is your wife. She is now mistress of this estate, of course this is her home and she has certain expectations…"

"To Hades with her expectations!" Jozsef cried out, throwing the now empty mug at the fire place.

Irmé did not react at her brother's violence. "Temper, Jozsef."

He chuckled. "Forgive me."

"If you dislike her so much, why did you marry her?"

"You know why," he replied, "Mother."

"Ah."

"Mother was still so devastated because of Juzstina. She arranged the marriage, poured all her energy into it. She wanted to make sure that the line was secured."

"I know Jozsef, I suffered the same fate, remember?"

"Yes. But you sister dear, were lucky. Sandor was a good man."

"Yes he was. I grew to love him very much."

"I, on the other hand, got stuck with _Orsolya Kurtosi_."

"She was the most beautiful girl at the time."

"And the richest," Jozsef added, "I am aware. Mother had every right to boast. It was a great feat of hers arranging such a marriage after all that had happened."

"Yes." Irmé laughed softly, "I don't know Jozsef, considering how full that nursery is, I don't think you are all that adverse to Orsolya's _company_ as you protest."

Jozsef was now laughing out loud. "Irmé! That is not a suitable topic of conversation for a proper lady," he mock admonished.

"Four children, Jozsef, in less than six years, you're not even twenty one yet!"

"What can I say? I take my duties seriously." He reached for his hidden bottle of vodka and poured them both a drink.

"You have four heirs should anything happen to you. The Konstantin name will live on."

"Attila, András, Vida and Gyozo," Jozsef recited the names of his sons, "my four heirs." He seemed lost in thought. "Well five really if we count your Kolos. Then there are our dear brothers, Gyula and Bela. They are my heirs as well."

"That is quite a list," Irmé said.

"Should I be worried sister dear?" Jozsef asked. "Should I not have drunk the milk? Have you been walking about the castle, dispensing poison to me and my four heirs?"

Irmé laughed. "Not this night, dear."


End file.
